Lord, of your mercy, please help me to endure and abide
rants of that obfuscating poser, called Thornin Myside.
I pray you let that Elder Poet, Alexander Pope,
teach me the verse forms which with Thornin Myside cannot cope.
One line collapses his whole unoriginality,
his unrefined, uncultured, and unbounded jealousy;
out of a pettiful dispute that started casually
with inappropriate remarks made from discourtesy;
and all that could have been smoothed off with one apology.
Starward